


The Cover Up

by castiels_shotgun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, Serial Killer Dean, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, serialkiller!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11953098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiels_shotgun/pseuds/castiels_shotgun
Summary: Sometimes when Dean would sneak into his bedroom at night he would scurry through the window and throw himself into Castiels arms, shaking and weeping. Castiel would hold him until he calmed, until his shaking stopped and he would retract himself from Castiels arms to reveal his blood stained hands. Castiel would sigh and quietly pull Dean into the bathroom to rid him of the dried blood. Dean had these habits, ones that he often had a hard time controlling, habits that Castiel had always helped him cover up.





	The Cover Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I was recently trying to find a good serial killer Dean fic and couldn't find anything that satisfied what I was looking for so I just decided to write my own. I have a couple chapters planned out but besides that i'm kind of just writing for fun. Just a warning, this entire story is going to have gore or violence in it in some way shape or form so if you don't like that I suggest you bail now. I also want to say that in no way am I glorifying serial killers or trying to romanticize them AT ALL, this is all purely fictional with characters that don't exist. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

To keep a secret is taxing on the mind, body, and soul. To hide the truth is exhausting, time consuming, and difficult at times. Yet all of humanity does it on a daily basis. Or at least Castiel did, every day was another lie, another cover up from the time he was only eight years old. Today was like any other, he sat at the kitchen table pushing around his soggy carrots and mash potatoes around on his plate. He wasn't hungry, he’d lost his appetite earlier in the day thanks to his best friend Dean. Castiel and Dean attended the same middle school and lived two houses down from one another. They’d hit it off in preschool and have been attached at the hip ever since, the duo kept to themselves and frequently snuck out of their houses in the quiet of the night to keep each other company. Castiel sometimes felt as though Dean needed him and vice versa. Sometimes when Dean would sneak into his bedroom at night he would scurry through the window and throw himself into Castiels arms, shaking and weeping. Castiel would hold him until he calmed, until his shaking stopped and he would retract himself from Castiels arms to reveal his blood stained hands. Castiel would sigh and quietly pull Dean into the bathroom to rid him of the dried blood. Dean had these habits, ones that he often had a hard time controlling, habits that Castiel had always helped him cover up.

It happened again today, but this time much worse. Castiel was confused when Dean didn't meet him outside of school today, they always walked home together and today wasn't supposed to be any different. Castiel walked him alone in the cool autumn air, rolling the sleeves of his sweater over his cold fingers. He decided to wait for Dean instead of going inside, he was worried about him. Minutes later he heard a noise off to the side of Deans house, what sounded like wooden doors slamming and metal clanking. Castiel steps closer to investigate and peers around the side of the house to see Dean rummaging through his parents shed, seemingly unsatisfied by every tool he picked up. 

Castiel opens the gate to their backyard and approaches Dean, “Dean, are you okay? You weren't there when I-”

Castiel stops his sentence short, mouth hanging open on his last word when Dean turns around. The sight is chilling, but it doesn't scare Castiel, Dean had never scared him, no matter what he did. Dean stands before him, chest heaving underneath his blood soaked band t-shirt, his hands covered in a mix of blood and dirt. Dean isn't crying, isn't shaking, he only seems panicked. 

“Cas…I need your help.” 

Castiel would always help him, he’d do anything for his best friend. He nods, “Okay.” 

Dean explains what happened to him as they both quickly look for a shovel, keeping an eye out for Deans parents who were supposed to be coming home any time now. Dean tells him about the animal, about the cat he killed today. He tells Castiel about how he’d decided to skip his last class and went for a walk when he’d stumbled upon a roaming tabby cat, one Castiel had seen several times and would even stop to pet before his walks to school. Dean told him of how he caught the cat and took it into his backyard, he speaks of how it scratched him when Dean held it down, how it fought when Dean sunk his knife into its flesh. Castiel stomach rolls with nausea, not wanting to admit how much he had liked that nameless little cat. He knew Dean had killed cats before, but Castiel had never seen it, he’d never seen what he’d done until today. The poor cat was mutilated, but in the most precise way, somehow still maintaining its recognizable features within the pool of blood and matted fur. Dean had sliced cuts through the fur all the way down its body, and had seemingly tried to completely open it up. 

Why this sight didn't repulse him and why he’d continues to be Deans friend sometimes confused him. He knew Dean was different, knew something wasn't quite normal about the boy, but never had he treated Dean differently. Castiel looked at Dean without disgust or fear, unlike others that picked up on Deans behavior. Kids at school called Dean names like crazy and weird, and although Dean always kept a calm and collected look when he was bullied, Castiel would catch head looks of anger in his eyes, darkness clouding the shades of green. Castiel had also caught those looks being cast at their teachers and Deans parents but never at himself. Dean acted differently around Castiel, he wasn't as cold or as quiet, he seemed to be himself. 

The two boys burry the cat behind a bush in Deans large backyard and quickly rid the blood and dirt from themselves with the garden hose. After Dean changed out of his blood stained shirt they soak it in bleach to make it unrecognizable and throw in a local dumpster. Over the past year or so they’d learned how to get rid of the evidence, to make sure no one ever found out about Deans little secret. 

After the work is done the boys sit in Deans bedroom like they always did after school. But this time it's silent, no chatting about classes, music, teachers…nothing. Castiel speaks up, looking up from his history book that he’s supposed to finish over the weekend. “Dean.” 

He catches the boys attention, causing him to look up from dusting off his collection of records. “Yeah?” 

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” 

Dean stops his tidying, putting back one of his records into the bin. He sits down onto the floor next to Castiel, slouching against the wooden bed frame. Dean wipes a hand over his face and casts his gaze to the floor, “I know you liked that cat…i’m sorry. I was going to bring it home and surprise you and then when I was waiting I just…got these feelings, like I needed to do it.” 

Castiel feels ashamed by the giddy feeling in his chest when Dean says he’d originally planned to give him the cat, he shouldn't feel happy about that. He feels guilt wash over him, what happened to that cat was his fault, he should have just stayed away from it, he knew how Dean was. “Dean I know you get these urges, and you can't control them, it's okay. But this time was…different.”

He feels Dean tense up next to him, “What do you mean? Cas I know maybe I went a little over board but I just…wanted to try some stuff.” 

Castiel looks over to his best friend, “W-What kind of stuff?” 

Dean pauses, running a hand through his hair. “I um…” He swallows, his eyes nervously flickering over to Castiel. “I wanted to see what it looked like…ya know, inside.” 

Castiels pulse sky rockets with every word, it’d been months since they had talked about this side of Dean. It still surprises him to hear it, to hear how Deans brain made sense of his…behavior. “Oh…okay. Does…does that ever scare you?”

Dean looks over at him with a thoughtful and hesitant expression. “Sometimes, that’s why I sneak over here at night. I just…don't want to be alone with myself, I don't trust myself enough.” 

Castiel knew that nights were hard for him, and he’d never denied Dean from coming through his window, in fact he’d started leaving it unlocked just for him. “Do you want to keep hurting animals? I mean…do you like it?” 

Dean looks at Castiel, their gazes locking as he waits for Dean to answer. “I do.” Castiels stomach flips, not prepared for that answer. “But I don't.” 

Castiel releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, staying quiet in hopes that Dean will elaborate. 

“It's mixed I guess. I don't like hurting I animals, they don't know what's goin’ on ya know? But I just don't know what else to do. Cas it…it just feels right, it’s like this rush of awesome feelings. I don't know how to describe it, I wish I didn't have to do it but I do.” 

Dean talks with such vigor, such a passion that it has Castiel enamored. Dean had always been very hard to excite, he kept his emotions very well hidden, very deep down. Seeing him with excitement in his eyes, with a form of emotion…with life, it makes Castiel happy. It makes him want to ignore all the horrendous acts Dean’s committed just to see that spark of green in his eyes. Maybe something was wrong with himself? He'd always wondered why he never shied away from Dean and his heavy baggage, was he just as different as his best friend? 

He realizes Deans watching him, studying him, eyes flickering across every facet of his face. “Cas? Say something.”

“It's okay.” The words rush out without him realizing it. “I don't understand it, but it's okay. You…you can't control it.” 

Deans lips turn up into a smile, “I was worried you’d call me a freak or something..” 

Castiel looks Dean in the eyes, gaze unwavering. “I would never think that of you, Dean.”

A flash of an emotion Castiel doesn't recognize is seen for a split second in Deans expression but it's gone just as quickly. The two boys spend the rest of their afternoon listening to records and doing homework, or at least Castiel did, Dean wasn't one to care much about his education. 

Castiel is reluctant to leave, but as he’s getting up to go Dean stands and wraps his big arms around Castiels smaller body. The hug is brief, but it's the closest thing to affection he’s ever gotten from Dean aside from his late night emotional breakdowns. It makes Castiel blush and he lowers his gaze to try to hide it, Dean was so harm, so firm in his arms. Maybe this is what Dean was talking about when he said how it just felt right. To Castiel, holding Dean just felt right. 

After the short walk to his house, Castiel enters the living room as quietly as possible, not to wake his parents. His parents were different too, but not quite like Dean, they had a different kind of urge. His parents would work all day then come home in the afternoon and drink their night away. Castiel did all of the house work, while his dad brought home take out food after take out food. It was surprising that he wasn't obese, but much like tonight's lonely dinner, he wasn't that hungry as he pushes around the soggy carrots and mashed potatoes from his frozen dinner. 

He sits at the dinning table alone, today's events running through his mind. Sometimes he wished he had someone to talk to about Deans behavior, but being thirteen in a middle school full of people who ignored or bullied him didn't give him a lot of options for friends. He also knew that he could never tell anyone about Dans habits, they would get scared, he knew no one would ever understand Dean like he did.


End file.
